


don't you worry child

by returnofthejedis



Category: Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Gen, I haven't read legends properly since before TFA, I wrote this to cheer a friend up, as they bring me so much joy and I adore them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26030986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/returnofthejedis/pseuds/returnofthejedis
Summary: Luke Skywalker reflects on fatherhood.
Relationships: Mara Jade/Luke Skywalker, sort of?
Comments: 20
Kudos: 28





	don't you worry child

**Author's Note:**

  * For [threepios](https://archiveofourown.org/users/threepios/gifts).



> May this short work provide you with joy even when the light seems sparse.

Ben Skywalker slept softly in his bed. Tucked into his blanket, he clutched a Wookie teddy and rhythmically sucked his thumb.

His father pecked a small, soft kiss on his forehead and smiled. He could still not believe that he was a father. Let alone the father of such an intelligent, kind, and sweet boy with a mop of blonde curls and the brightest, rosiest cheeks this side of the New Republic. With gentle movements, Luke stroked the boy’s fringe.

 _You’re perfect,_ his father thought, a bent index finger stroking the boy’s soft cheeks, _and you’re ours_ .

Luke hadn’t realised how much he wanted to be a father until that small, fragile newborn was first in his arms. Growing up, he had been both fatherless and motherless. He had always feared the chance of a tragedy leaving any child he may selfishly have brought into the galaxy orphaned. Knowing that pain better than anyone, Luke was afraid to permanently scar a child in the way that he had been. 

Because of this, the man was adamant that he should never be a parent, and when his wife had first brought the subject up, he had skated around the topic. Avoiding it like a Krayt Dragon avoids the day, for he was unable to confront the wounds drilled deep into his very psyche.

Yet, when Mara placed that small screaming bundle into his arms, and that same bundle had gripped his flesh-and-blood fingers, trusting the man to keep him safe so thoroughly and unquestionably, Luke was changed.

Of course, the fear lingered. Children were blank canvases. For his child, Luke was his only point of reference. Luke was one of his primary sources of stability and consistency, and thus his influence on this boy would be unrivalled. The man feared that one wrong move might damage that child the way he had been damaged on that backwater planet so long ago. Luke could not imagine a greater punishment than the boy following in his footsteps; searching everywhere for some form of father figure. Desperate and vulnerable in the way that Luke had been, and, if truth be told, the way that he still was.

Of course, despite his insecurities, the man sincerely loved his son. He would beam with pride at every chance.

“How’s the little tyke?” His brother-in-law, himself a father, had asked him over a game of sabacc. Smirking as the corners of Luke’s mouth were raised until they almost touched the lobes of his ears.

“Ben’s walking?” His twin sister, herself a mother, had excitedly exclaimed over the holo one afternoon.

Indeed, the man adored the boy. As much as he wanted only the best for the boy, he also wanted the boy to feel as if he were the best. To feel confident, and loved, and valued, in the way that the man had never truly felt.

“He’s very clever,” Luke told his twin sister over supper a few months after the boy had begun formal schooling, “he’ll be going to Theed University before he’s ten at this rate!”

Politely, his twin sister nodded and smiled, silently encouraging her husband to do the same. Though she was instructed by the finest minds, and droids, in the whole galaxy, she would never wish to dim the light that burned so brightly from the man when discussing the boy’s otherwise average progress.

The fact of the matter was, the man had never gone to school. Thus, the man boasted about the boy’s academic achievements despite them being commonplace. Every child across the galaxy, from those who attended the expensive public schools of the core worlds, to those who gained more rudimentary and piece-meal instruction in the outer rim, would know the rhyme to remember the primary seasons of their planetary system. Yet, the man was denied an education growing up and was thus unaware of this fact, so he remained ecstatic at his son’s otherwise average progress.

For many, they would see such encouragement and pride as the hallmark of a good father. They would tell him that he was a good father, but the man, unaware of what a good father figure was, denied such claims. Nevertheless, the boy must have agreed with these numerous commentators, for it was the comfort of his father that he wanted after nightmares.

“Daddy,” whispered the boy as small feet patted across the carpet, “daddy, please wake up.” Ben, sniffling and hiccuping as he worked through the physical dregs of a nightmare, tugged at his father’s duvet.

Perhaps it was because his aunt had done the same growing up, claiming that she learnt the trick from a wise woman in her younger years, but the man knew just the remedy.

Jumping straight to his feet, Luke picked up the crying child and cradled him in his arms. He too suffered nightmares. Before the man could even repair a droid arm, night terrors would wake him up, drenched in a cold sweat as ragged breath snatched for as much air as it could. He knew all too well the terrors that befell the mind once the suns had set, and though it pained him to realise that this small boy had been cursed with these night terrors, it soothed him that the boy felt confident enough to wake him up at any given time and seek his father’s reassurance.

“It’s okay, Ben.” Luke gently pushed a lock of hair behind the child’s ears.

“It was so scary, Daddy.” The boy clutched the man’s silk shirt, his knuckles white as he dried his eyes against the man’s chest, “and it felt so-”

“Real?”

The boy nodded. His father placed him on the kitchen counter, wrapping a treasured blanket around his son’s small shoulders. 

“I don’t like sleeping.”

“Neither do I, Ben” The man pushed a tuft of blonde hair from the boy’s eyes, “but do you know what cures bad dreams?”

Nightmare cures was something the boy was not familiar with.

“Warm blue milk and your,” the next sentence was whispered, a private exchange between father and son, “dad’s secret recipe.”

“Secret recipe?” The boy’s mouth fell open. Ben was exhilarated at the responsibility that the modifying word implied, “secret secret?”

“Secret, secret!” The man reached into the cupboard, fishing out a biscuit tin. Inside the tin lay ten funny-shaped sugar cookies. He removed a handful. He carefully placed them into the boy’s small palm.

“Now, those nightmares hate blue milk and sugar cookies.” the man told the boy, “because they’re allergic!”

“Allergic!” Eyes wide and voice excitable, “how can a dream be _allergic_ ?” Ben didn’t believe the man. His father was being silly, making very little sense, and underestimating the boy’s intelligence.

Yet, though the man was _indeed_ playful, his reply convinced the boy that nightmares _were_ allergic to warm blue milk and sugar cookies. Within moments it seemed like common sense to Ben, and eager to keep the monsters at bay, the boy slurped his drink. Staring at the bottom of the mug with grit determination as his beloved father continued to prove his thesis, peppering it with stories and jokes. Though each one was progressively sillier than the last, the boy believed the man.

“Right,” Luke said after an hour and a half of stories and midnight snacks, “do you think you’ll be able to sleep?”

The boy nodded enthusiastically. His father’s anti-nightmare cure had restored to him a sense of bravery. Small arms wrapped tightly around his neck, Luke carried the small boy back to his room.

“I love you, daddy” the boy whispered as he snuggled into the man's chest, feeling safe and secure in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't read legends in a while so feel free to come yell at me on twitter (@skywalkermyth) if I made some horrible mistake. 
> 
> Alternatively, feel free to comment!


End file.
